Impending Doom
by Mira-Jade
Summary: The Doctor's having a bad day. Rose gets to enjoy it.


**Impending Doom (or something like it)**

**Genre:** Humor, Family  
**Rating**: PG  
**Time Frame**: Sometime Season Two  
**Characters**: Ten/Rose, Jackie Tyler, Jack Harkness

**Summary**: In which the Doctor gets goosed, Jackie tries to cook, and Jack discovers Spanish soaps. All in that order.

**Notes:** This started as a spoof in my 'Time Again' series, and it got . . . longer. So, here it is, all by its onesies and proud to stand alone!

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_Impending Doom (or something like it)  
__by Mira-Jade  
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There was a bloody good reason why he stayed away from such blatantly domestic families scenes like this.

The exact reasons had escaped him when Rose had asked for a visit home the other day, and thus he hadn't been able to rally a sufficient argument. Rose had 'that look' anyway, so perhaps it was a good thing that he hadn't put too much of a fight.

And here he is, reminded of exactly why he had always avoided these situations in the first place. In the end, it wasn't even the sheer domesticity of the scene – the wonderful smells coming from the oven and the rich laughter on the kitchen air, no. No, no, no. It was the family in question.

Or, at least, one person in the family.

He put up with the _one_ person in the family for the _other_ person in the family, but this time a line was soooo crossed. And he was staying out of the way now! Making a point, he was. Which meant, of course, moping in the corner, and hoping that nobody noticed him until it was time to leave.

Of course, the universe that was always out to get him felt like picking up the loose slack now, and _she_ found him – hands on her hips and a dirty apron over her pink jumper and pale blue jeans. He noticed the 'Flirt for Food' scrawled in sparkling purple over the front of the apron, and managed not to smile – just barely.

She was brandishing her spoon like a weapon. He had a second to look alarmed.

"Doctor," she was saying then, "You're doing it again."

"Doing what?" he asked, managing to keeping the sullen betrayal out of his voice.

She rolled her eyes, hearing between the lines as always. "You're hiding – no, you're sulking! And you look one step away from wishing there were Daleks beating down the door -"

"- preferable to certain people," he mumbled.

A dark brow raised in exasperation. "What's wrong now?" Rose finally asked crossly.

He would not whine, he wouldn't! He would not vent, either. He would suck up his problems and deal with them like a grown man! - err, bi-hearted-time-sensitive-extraterrestrial, but still . . .

Her gaze softened as the seconds passed.

His resolve crumbled.

"Okay, you wanna know? I'll tell you. We've gone straight from fighting off aliens with women who look like lumberjacks who al think that I look good in a suit, to more aliens who think that orange is still in style and who use over sized bazookas as weapons! If that wasn't terrifying enough – you had to visit home, and Jackie had to decide to cook, which she can't -"

"- Jack's helping. He's actually pretty good -"

"- not the point! So, between Jack controlling the remote to the telly -"

"- that's a scary thought."

"Two words for you, Rose – Spanish soaps."

"Sounds . . . interesting."

"So, while I am avoiding him – I'm getting the lowdown from the one girl who stopped over for a bit, what's her name -"

"- Shireen?"

"Blasted ape kept telling me to finally get with you or stop stringing you along -"

"- oh no, she didn't! Doctor, I'm so sorry -"

"That's not even the worse part! The worst part is . . . are you ready for it? 'cause it's really quite messy . . . I was _goosed_. By. Your. Mother."

Horrified silence.

" . . . multiple times." He tried so hard for it to not come out on a whine. No luck.

Well, at least it explained the twitching.

A moment passed before she was able to get her bearings again. When she did, a small smile flickered over her face as she reached up to pat his shoulder. "Poor baby," she cooed in what was supposed to be a comforting manner.

He had the distinct impression that he was being pacified.

So he glared at her. "You're about to laugh!"

"I am not!" she protested valliantly.

No use.

"You're laughing!"

"Well, you have to admit that it's kinda hard not to!"

He leveled a glare at her that clearly said _'traitor.'_

She brought herself under control – just barely. "Tell ya what," she chirped brightly, "you endure an evening with my mum, and I'll find you a nice race of totalitarian aliens to beat up when we leave. How's that sound?"

He grimaced. "Is there an alternative?"

She tilted her head thoughtfully while her dark eyes lit up with a wicked gleam. "I can lock you in a closet with mum until you appreciate that _all _she is doing is goosing you."

"Rose Tyler, you are a cruel woman."

Not even an ounce of guilt. "Don't I know it."

Silence, and then: "Maybe the totalitarian aliens will be on a nice beach," he said hopefully.

"Complete with banana palms," she assured him, patting his shoulder again.

He appeared to think about it, and then sighed. "Fine then, I'll be sociable. Just . . ."

"Just what?"

"Can I stick next to you?"

"I'm going to be in the kitchen with mum."

"Looks like I'm watching Spanish soaps with Jack."

Rose smiled fondly at him, and turned to leave at the sound of clattering dishes and muffled curses coming from the kitchen. So, with his hands in his pockets, he headed over to the couch and plopped down next to a strangely silent Jack. A moment passed, and then the Doctor said, "I thought you were helping in the kitchen?"

Jack shuddered. "I was."

"What happened?"

Uncomfortable silence passed.

"Ah," was all the Doctor said. An understanding passed between the two men when he reached for the bowl of popcorn. "Downright brilliant plot, this has," he offered.

Jack smiled. "And you haven't even met Enrique yet."

**FIN**

. . . And, see what happens when ya give the muse caffeine? _Craaaazy_ things. Anyway, the purpose of this little note was to say that 'goosing' basically means butt pinching. I had a few people ask me that. So, yep. Poor Doc. ;)

**~MJ**


End file.
